by Tony Peluso
“A miner in the Yukon freezes to death less than a mile from safety because he’s unlucky and unprepared.”
I looked at Gretchen and adopted my smuggest expression. As you already know, she’d carped about the volume of equipment that I brought along for the day trips. She noticed my facial put down. She rubbed her left eye with the middle finger of her left hand.
“Do you believe in UFOs?” Father Pat asked, readdressing the main issue.
“Good question, Father,” Hansen said.
“Father Pat, Hansen is the expert on these matters. You can ask him. For me, your question is wrong. The term UFO means unidentified flying object. UFOs exist. We don’t know what they are, where they’re from, or who’s responsible because we haven’t identified the source of the phenomena,” I explained.
“I see,” Father Pat said. “Let me rephrase. I forgot for a moment that you’re a lawyer. Do you believe in aliens visiting the Earth?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mr. Hansen, what do you think?” Father asked.
“Father, the universe is a big place. Tonight we’ll be able to see billions of stars in the Sedona sky. If we had the right equipment, we could see whole galaxies over thirteen billion light years distant. We see the galaxies as they existed thirteen billion years ago. It would take thirteen billion years traveling at the speed of light to get to where they are now. If we got there, they’d be farther out in the expanding reality.”
“It is hard to conceive,” Gretchen added.
“There are billions of galaxies, with billions of stars in each one. There must be trillions, or even quadrillions, of planets orbiting those stars. It’s the height of arrogance to assume that Earth is one planet that has life. It’s mathematically impossible for Earth to be the one oasis in the whole universe. Scientists have concluded that in our own galaxy it’s probable that there could be eight billion planets like earth orbiting in the sweet spot around their suns. Logic dictates that some fraction of those worlds have developed life.”
“Then why is there so little evidence of extraterrestrial life?” Gretchen asked. “If life were so prevalent, we’d have seen plenty of evidence. Right?”
“Not necessarily. Carl Sagan used to lecture on this topic. The laws of physics, vast distances, limitations in technology, and the tendency of a species to foul its own nest are all factors in the answer. And why does the life have to be extraterrestrial? Why not inter-dimensional?” Hansen asked my bride.
“What do you mean by inter-dimensional?” she asked.
“We’ve discussed how vast the universe is. It’s also very small and complex,” Hansen said. “Three generations ago, we understood that molecules were made up of atoms. Today, we know that sub-atomic structure is as tiny and minute as the universe is vast. Scientists in France and Switzerland are on the brink of confirming the Higgs Boson, the so-called God-particle. It’s orders of magnitude smaller than protons, electrons, and neutrons.”
“You’re losing me,” Gretchen said. “I went to law school because there was no math, physics, or science.”
“Sorry,” Hansen apologized. “I tend to get carried away. In a way, the universe stretches from the infinitesimally small Higgs Boson, quarks, and dark matter to huge galaxies that are a million light years in diameter and billions of light years away. You get that, right?”
“Sure, I’m not a complete loss but I’m not a geek, like you,” Gretchen said.
“I guess, I am a geek at that,” Hansen admitted. “Try to follow this. The universe as we know it is vast, but it’s also not the only universe. There are other parallel dimensions that exist in the same space. We are a three-dimensional species and because of physical limitations, we can only perceive reality in terms of length, width, and height. We also understand passing time, so that’s a temporal dimension. The other dimensions exist. They are as complex as our universe, there are billions, trillions or even quadrillions of them.”
“That’s hard to believe, Don,” Father Pat said.
“Are you saying that an omniscient God cannot create the circumstances that I’ve described?”
“No. He can do anything, even that. I studied science. It’s still hard to wrap my thick Irish head around that concept.”
“Different issue, Padre. You’re a mortal man with above average intelligence who’s biologically confined to three dimensions. Think of it this way. You’re in a clothing store. You’re being fitted for a new suit. You stand in that space with several angled mirrors. If you look at your image in the right way, the reflection gives you the impression there are multiple images that stretch to infinity.”
“That’s a false metaphor. It’s like a mirage,” Father Pat said.
“True, but suppose this universe was a card in a deck of one quadrillion cards.”
“Are you saying that if these parallel realities exist and intelligent beings populate them, that they can come here?” Gretchen asked.
“Yes. Several advocates of that concept live in Sedona,” Hansen explained. “Some folks think that the energy you feel in Sedona is because the Verde Valley is a portal for inter-dimensional travel.”
“Have you seen these inter-dimensional beings, Don?” Gretchen asked.
Hansen hesitated for a long moment. He looked at each one of us. You could hear the wheels turning in his head.
“If I’d seen one, I wouldn’t admit it to you guys,” Hansen said. “You’re neophytes. I do know people in Sedona who swear that they’ve seen these beings.”
“What are the beings like?” Gretchen pressed.
“There are species from different parallel universes. There’s no standard type.”
“Do any look like the Christus?” Father Pat asked.
Hansen paused again. He nodded his head and said, “Yes.”
Father Pat looked distressed.
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“Some of my clients have had the encounter. They described the beings. They’re identical to the Christus. Eight or nine feet tall, thin, long arms and legs. These features indicate a being that evolved on a planet with less gravitational force than earth.”
At this point, the waitress returned and we ordered another round.
“Hope I’m not breaking the bank with my scotch,” Hansen said.
“In vino est veritas, Don,” I said.
“Yes. I’m giving it to you straight,” Hansen said.
“Don, if these Christus beings come here, why don’t we know about it? Are you suggesting that there’s a big government conspiracy?” Gretchen asked.
“Are you familiar with the conquest of the Aztecs in Mexico, or the Incas in Peru?
“No. I was a business major at A&M.”
“You’re an Aggie?” Hansen asked.
“Gig ’em!” Gretchen responded, showing her right fist, thumb up.
“A big fan of Johnny Football?”
“Of course.”
“I went to Arizona for undergrad.” Hansen explained.
“Figures,” I said. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Tony went to ASU,” Gretchen said, smiling.
“Ah, Tempe Normal, the Farm. Tell me, Tony, have they managed to accredit any of the colleges at your alma mater yet?” Hansen asked.
If you think that there’s a more bitter rivalry among American universities than Arizona and Arizona State, you are out of your mind. It’s too complex to explain here, but I assure you that it’s true. It’s immature, embarrassing, and unnecessary, but those bastards from Arizona started it. Yes, I’m sure all colleges at ASU are accredited. Anyway, that’s what they claim when they ask for alumni donations.
“What he means, Gretch, is that since he matriculated at U of A, he’s intellectually superior to you,” I counseled my wife.
“No kidding? Are you an arrogant prick?” Gretchen asked Don, batting her eyes innocently.
“I told you he went to U of A, sweetie
. So he must …” I began.
“Did she say that?” Father Pat interrupted, as he drained half his pint of Dead Guy. As a priest, his dinners and social outings with parishioners never included profanity. Then again, he never ministered in College Station.
“Padre, she’s an Aggie,” I said. Father nodded his head as if he understood.
“I’m not an arrogant prick, but I did study the Spanish conquest of the Americas,” Hansen responded. “A small number of men with a huge technological advantage conquered two very powerful empires with strong native forces that vastly outnumbered the conquerors. After the conquest, the unique aboriginal cultures with complex religious beliefs imploded.”
“You’re saying that could happen here if the inter-dimensional beings made themselves known,” Gretchen concluded.
“Yeah. That’s one issue. Another is that not all of these inter-dimensional beings are benign. Some are good, very good. Some are the worst you can imagine. Some want to help us. Some would harm us or exploit us, like the Spanish exploited the Native Americans.”
“You won’t tell us if you’ve seen these beings yourself. Will you tell us if you believe that they come to Earth through a portal here in Sedona?” I asked.
“Yes, I believe that they come here,” Hansen said.
“Why?” Father Pat asked.
“Why do they come here, or why do I believe that they do?” Hansen asked.
“Both.”
“I believe that they come here because I trust the people who claim to have seen them. I’ve seen evidence that they’ve been coming here for millennia.”
“What evidence is that?” I asked.
“Have you ever been to the Native American ruins at Schnebly Tank? There are petroglyphs that go back at least ten thousand years. Though rough, they depict deer, elk, bear, mastodons, big cats, ancient humans, and the like. Two prominent petroglyphs are the spitting images of the Christus,” Hansen explained.
“Don, assuming that inter-dimensional aliens visit Sedona, why? It can’t be to get one of your tantric massages,” Gretchen said.
“Don’t be so sure, I’m very skilled,” Hansen said, as he leered at my wife.
“I’ll bet you are,” my bride agreed, as she batted her eyes.
“These beings come here for the same reasons that we want to go to Mars. Some are benign. Some are dangerous and cruel,” Hansen said.
“Don, I’d like to see the petroglyphs,” I said.
“Happy to guide you there when I have a free day. It’s a hike. It’s a good twenty-five miles north, northeast of Palatki. From the trailhead, it takes at least five hours in and an equal time out. It’s moderate to difficult in spots, but you look like you could make it.”
“We can’t do that. We have one more day here. We’re driving up to Flagstaff tomorrow. Tony wants to show me the Sunset Crater,” Gretchen countered.
“What’s that?” Father Pat asked.
“The crater is the remnant of an ancient volcano north of Flagstaff,” Hansen said. “Erupted a thousand years ago. Tore up the real estate. From what we can tell, it devastated the tribes that lived north of the Mogollon Rim. The local tribe, what the archeologists have named the Sinagua—Spanish for without water—fared well enough to hang around for another three centuries. You’ll like the crater. It has awesome hiking trails around the base,” Hansen said.
“Do these inter-dimensional beings believe in God?” I asked Hansen, trying to get back to the alien issue and pin him down.
Once again, Hansen took his time, thinking through his answer.
Turning to me, he looked me in the eye and said, “The short answer is yes.”
“What’s the long answer?” I pressed.
“It’s too long for our little happy hour. Sorry folks, but I’m booked for Eight p.m. I need to go. A man has to eat.”
“Can you meet with us tomorrow?” I asked.
“No, sorry. I’m full up with tourists from Chile. I know that you’re leaving. I realize that you have a thousand questions.”
“How about one last question, Don?” I asked.
“Shoot,” Don said with a phony smile.
“Why did you leave the priesthood?”
“To answer that would take a couple of hours and several more doubles,” Hansen observed. “My religion is very tolerant. We accept lifestyle choices that you Catholics would view as aberrant. As I got more interested in New Age, Reiki, tantric massage, extra-terrestrials, and inter-dimensional contacts, I made no secret of my research. The hierarchy became uncomfortable with me. One bishop told me that he was afraid that my notoriety would put too much alien in Episcopalian.”
Gretchen and I laughed at the intended joke. Father Pat did not.
“I quarreled with the church leadership for about a year. Eventually, they agreed that I should pursue my personal journey outside of my vocation. They released me from my vows. Simple as that.”
“When is your next available date to talk?” I asked.
“Tony, here’s my e-mail address. When you get back to Tampa, contact me. I’ll try to help. Cheers!” Hansen said, as he finished his scotch and passed his card to me.
With his salute, Hansen grabbed his hat, slid out of the booth, waved, turned around, and strode out of the Cowboy Club.
“That was one very interesting man,” Gretchen said. “After that, I need another drink and good meal.”
“How about it, Father? Want to eat with a lapsed Catholic and his Aggie wife?”
“I need something to soak up the beer,” Father Pat responded. “Tony, you hedged quite a bit earlier. Let me ask you a different way. Do you think that there’s any truth to Mr. Hansen’s claim? If accurate, it would create some chaos in organized religion,” Father noted.
“I may be the worst Catholic since Judas, but I hope that I’m a spiritual man.”
“You are, honey,” Gretchen confirmed.
“Thanks, babe,” I said smiling at my wife. “Father, I understand the arguments that my atheist friends make about organized religion. Some of their thinking makes sense because our religion has taken arbitrary and indefensible positions on science for short-term political gains. Later the official views proved to be invalid. Yet, at the time, the hierarchy enforced its will with the full power of the Catholic bureaucracies.”
“Can you give me an example?” Father Pat asked.
“Sure, that’s easy. Galileo.”
“Why Galileo?” Gretchen asked.
“By the mid sixteen hundreds, Galileo was involved in science and religion. Due to his astronomical observations, and relying on the earlier work of Copernicus, he preached that the sun was the center of the solar system and the planets revolved around it.”
“Well, that’s how it works, right?” Gretchen said.
“Sure, today everyone knows the solar system is heliocentric. Back in the seventeenth century, the pope and his minions fought the Protestant Reformation. They had invested in the theory that the earth was the center of the universe and all the planets, sun, and stars revolved around us. They claimed that scripture supported their view. Since it’s Church doctrine that the Pope is infallible on issues of Faith, they could brook no scientific dispute or they’d risk losing more ground to the Protestants.”
“No shit?” Gretchen asked.
“Though he’s oversimplifying a complex issue, your husband is correct. Cardinal Bellarmine, a Jesuit, helped the Pope to silence Galileo.”
“How’d they do that?” Gretchen asked.
“Bellarmine convinced the Pope to try Galileo in an ecclesiastical court. The tribunal found that he was highly suspect of heresy. They could have tortured or killed him, but they commuted his sentence to house arrest for the balance of his life.”
“Tony, your precious Jesuits did that?” Gretchen asked.
“Yep, but the Order is very different four hundred years later,” I suggested.
“I’m confused.�
�� Gretchen said. “What difference does it make to the issue of the existence of God, if the sun revolves around the earth or the earth revolves around the sun?”
“It doesn’t,” I said. “An omniscient Creator could organize this universe any way that pleases Him. He makes the rules. The scientists, who advocate the existence of multiverses, claim that some have different laws of physics. So, it’s not out of the question to have a universe structured in a way that’s very different from ours. An act of Creation that includes a universe that stretches from the Higgs Boson all the way out to thirteen billion light years—and may be one in a quadrillion multiverses occupying the same space and time—is a much grander Divine work, than if earth was the center of the only reality and a million stars revolved around it.”
“The Church punished Galileo because he advocated an idea, which could undermine the power that the Church exercised. The existence of inter-dimensional beings doesn’t call into question the existence of God. Such a phenomenon would make Creation all that more grand,” I pontificated. “The theory of evolution does not preclude the existence of a Divine Spark. The Big Bang and Fiat Lux are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they kind of sound similar, don’t they?”
“What does Fiat Lux mean?” Gretchen asked.
“Let there be light!” Father said.
“Oh, that comes from the Bible, right?” Gretchen asked.
“It comes from the Book of Genesis 1:3. And God said, let there be light! And there was light,” Father Pat said.
“Gretch, the Jesuits explained to me decades ago that belief that our universe, our planet, and our species have all evolved over eons does not call into question belief in God, so long as you concede that God had a role in getting it all started,” I said.
“Tony, you’re a man of many parts, aren’t you?” Father Pat suggested.
“Thank you, Father.”
At this point, the waitress returned. We postponed our teleological discussion to wade through the options in the unique menu.
Gretchen ordered a rattlesnake appetizer and a venison steak. I ordered buffalo meatloaf. Father Pat didn’t feel adventurous. He asked for a chicken Caesar salad.
I promised Father Pat that if we had one more beer, I’d front the money for a pink Jeep back to the rectory. He accepted.